Within man lies a deep wondrous spot, to which neither virtue nor vice can reach. Upon which the sun of reason and will never rise. In which the mouth of logic never speaks, the laws and rules are never obeyed, and not a language is used nor a word is ever spoken.It is a distant Kingdom, beyond words and meanings. With everything is a sheer murmur offering wonders in a blink. From the depths of which, suffice a single tone or a flash of mind or a scent of a perfum, to allow rise of emotions, pictures and memories, a rising that will shake our being and open ourselves to things we can neither describe nor materialize even if we used the most refined of phrases or the most skillful of languages.

Tom Ripley: Don't you just take the past and put it in a room in a basement and lock the door and never go in there? That's what I do, And then you meet someone special and all you want to do is to toss them the key and say; open up, step inside, but you can't, because it's dark, There's demons and if anybody saw how ugly it is. I keep wanted to do that, fling the door open just let light in and clean everything out.

Monday, May 12, 2008

Monday, May 05, 2008

On a warm summer's evenin' on a train bound for nowhere,I met up with the gambler; we were both too tired to sleep.So we took turns a starin' out the window at the darkness'Til boredom overtook us, and he began to speak.

He said, "Son, I've made my life out of readin' people's faces,And knowin' what their cards were by the way they held their eyes.so if you don't mind my sayin', I can see you're out of aces.For a taste of your whiskey I'll give you some advice."

So I handed him my bottle and he drank down my last swallow.Then he bummed a cigarette and asked me for a light.And the night got deathly quiet, and his face lost all expression.Said, "If you're gonna play the game, boy, ya gotta learn to play it right.

You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,Know when to walk away and know when to run.You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table.There'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin's done.

Ev'ry gambler knows that the secret to survivin'Is knowin' what to throw away and knowing what to keep.'Cause ev'ry hand's a winner and ev'ry hand's a loser,And the best that you can hope for is to die in your sleep."

When he'd finished speakin', he turned back towards the window,Crushed out his cigarette and faded off to sleep.And somewhere in the darkness the gambler, he broke even.But in his final words I found an ace that I could keep.

You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,Know when to walk away and know when to run.You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table.There'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin's done.

Sunday, May 04, 2008

On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hairWarm smell of colitas, rising up through the airUp ahead in the distance, I saw shimmering lightMy head grew heavy and my sight grew dimI had to stop for the nightThere she stood in the doorway;I heard the mission bellAnd I was thinking to myself,'This could be Heaven or this could be Hell'Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the wayThere were voices down the corridor,I thought I heard them say...Welcome to the Hotel CaliforniaSuch a lovely place (Such a lovely place)Such a lovely facePlenty of room at the Hotel CaliforniaAny time of year (Any time of year)You can find it hereHer mind is Tiffany-twisted, she got the Mercedes BenzShe got a lot of pretty, pretty boys she calls friendsHow they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat.Some dance to remember, some dance to forgetSo I called up the Captain,'Please bring me my wine'He said, 'We haven't had that spirit here since nineteen sixty nine'And still those voices are calling from far away,Wake you up in the middle of the nightJust to hear them say...Welcome to the Hotel CaliforniaSuch a lovely place (Such a lovely place)Such a lovely faceThey livin' it up at the Hotel CaliforniaWhat a nice surprise (what a nice surprise)Bring your alibisMirrors on the ceiling,The pink champagne on iceAnd she said 'We are all just prisoners here, of our own device'And in the master's chambers,They gathered for the feastThey stab it with their steely knives,But they just can't kill the beastLast thing I remember, I wasRunning for the doorI had to find the passage backTo the place I was before'Relax,' said the night man,'We are programmed to receive.You can check-out any time you like,But you can never leave!'